


If

by fallenfromthetop



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: F/M, Happy!Alternate (still has powers) Universe, Harry Osborn falls in love onesidely, M/M, Progressive!HarryPeter, Then Peter thinks he falls in love onesidely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1575077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenfromthetop/pseuds/fallenfromthetop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One more chance in the universe, one more different choice and one more love to deal with.<br/>The last breath of Harry Osborn questions, if Peter had just tried to save Harry, perhaps...just perhaps....not all is lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Try Again

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: This is a Peter/Harry (aka. Spiderman/Green Goblin) fanfiction so definitely mucha gayness, this is in the Amazing Spiderman universe so I am imagining them (the pairing in this story) as Andrew Garfield and Dane DeHaan. 
> 
> I won't turn Gwen in to a whiny evil person, she'll stay awesome because I love her tons. She'll probably also be paired with someone else, but I can't say too much :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy, won't keep you up any longer <3
> 
> BETAED BY: Alloy @ AO3 (thanks, babe)

_If: Chapter 1 - To Try Again_

_|Present||The First Earth|_

His skin was murky green and cracking, fingers gnarled and shriveled, slowly aiming and grasping for something towards the empty ceiling. His face contorted with the effort of raising a single limb, shaking, he continued to move upwards. The weakening muscles shivered in protest and slowed him down, even so, his arm continued to pull to the maximum, like a parched desert never to feel the trickle of water.

The distance between him and the white washed ceiling was closing in. He needed it. The only chance he had to fix it and make it work between them. It hurt so much, the organ wrapped around his body groaned and prickled, cracks became louder and louder. Empty cries became the only noise to be heard in the room. He wanted to ask. To hope for one last time. Before...

Please. Make it stop. Peter.

“Don’t force yourself, please, _Harry._ ”

Peter. Please.  _Please._

His body arched as the fissures spread across his bones like shattered glass. Each piece resounded within one another and created a resonance, an echo that diffused around and in to his body. It penetrated his flesh and buried itself deep with only one motive in thought.

What remained of the stumps of nerve endings entered his system and flooded it with torture, dried lips opening to attempt a scream only to leave silence.

His only chance, his last chance, what did he have to do to tell him?

_Something wet..._

To say it?

_Trickled down...._

To hope it?

_His cheeks?_

**_I’m sorry... forgive me... please... Peter..._ **

His movements were lessening, but the expression on his face didn’t falter. He seems like he was being mutilated, stabbed and electrocuted at the same time. The green mottled skin aimed higher whilst curling around the bleak air for a target. He was moving his entire body to and fro to where his fingers were pointing desperately towards.

Peter moved his hands to stop him, only to remember that he was brittle. Too brittle for anyone.  Moisture collected at the corner of Peter’s eyes and pooled, but even then  _his_ eyes saw nothing but the ceiling and that something beyond.

To be useless.

He hadn’t felt like that in a long time. Not since Gwen.

“Stop it _......why_?”

* * *

 

_|24 years before ||The First Earth|_

“Harry. Look up, man.”

A hazed mind burrowed through the multitude of colors and images that entered his mind the second he opened his eyes. One came soon to realized sleeping after drinking with loose jeans, a cashmere sweater and a locked door was the definition of seventh heaven as long as nobody bothered him. And theoretically, with the locked door, no one should have. Except for Felicia who had the key.

 _If it’s that god damned woman again,_ Harry thought vaguely, _I will just shatter this glass bottle and stab her._

“Come on, Harry.  _Look up!_ ”

It seemed like that irritating voice wasn't going to cease. Groaning inwardly, Harry blinked a few times to get pass the many layers of sleepiness that had weaved its way through from all the brandy and lethargy. Slowly pushing himself up the plush sofa, he planted the leather boots deeply into the carpet before he decided that it wasn’t worth it to wake up. Realizing his sweater had slipped alongside the process of retrieving his consciousness, he wearily moved to fix it. Only then, did he slowly move his head from side to side glancing for the trademark black dress that revealed just a little too much.

“Jesus,  ** _look up!_** ”

 _What the fuck?_ The irritatingly familiar voice was actually coming from above him. Above.

 _Seriously, what the fuck?_ Harry took a deep breath to strengthen himself for more of the madness and tilted his head up slowly.

“Finally, Harry, see something you like?”

A red spider filled his vision as the lens stared at him.

Feeling instantly awake, a smile spread across his face. He couldn't be happier, inside, of course, he was more than just the happy he pasted on his face, he was  _ecstatic._  But really, he couldn’t let it show, it just wasn’t Harry. Instead, he stood up shakily clutching what he could of the sofa, steadying himself towards the two chairs and sitting down eagerly. Pulling himself together and removing all the traces of lethargy that he could he grinned and proclaimed,

“Spiderman, just the man I wanted to see.”

The red and blue spandex fitted man released the webs and pushed forward to the ground, doing a little flip, and headed for the opposite chair directly across Harry. The golden blonde grinned as Spiderman approached, he tilted the brandy bottle into glass and lifted it carelessly towards his mouth. Harry considered offering a brandy to Spiderman but the mask stopped his musing, and instead, his body fixated on to the brandy, the hot sweet taste waking him up and dispersed a tingle throughout his body.

He felt more alive than ever.

“So, Peter talked to you?”

Although he couldn’t see anything under the mask, Harry could tell that the other man grinned.

“Sort of, yeah.”

His savior was here.

He leaned forwards to Spiderman and just looked. This was the man who saved the city, the city’s superhero like the others across the world. He saved everyone and anyone, he was the shining light of the citizens and the path towards peace. Everyone loved him, excluding the few news reporter looking for attention. And now it was Harry’s turn to see why.

To live. To be reborn.

Harry grinned

“When can we start? I can do it anytime."

His tiredness was gone, the sun was bright and shining and so was his mood, the day had come he would be saved.

Everything was alright. Just for a second.

Then the atmosphere  _changed._  Spiderman seemed to shifted almost uncomfortably. He settled just a little closer into the chair and the gloved fingers lace across one another and the superhero averted his eyes from Harry’s eager ones.

A person couldn’t be called a child prodigy for no reason, Harry noticed instantly.

“Didn’t he tell you?” Harry said bitterly.

There was no reaction from the masked superhero, he did nothing but stare to the oriental carpet.

“He told you, right?  _You know I’m dying!_ ”

Spiderman lifted his head back up.

“I’m sorry, Harry."

Harry didn't want to hear it, it just wasn't correct, wasn't fair.

"...I have to protect you by refusing.”

For something so close, yet so far away, Harry couldn’t take it. He slammed the brandy glass back down and glared.

“How much do you want?”

Spiderman seemed suddenly taken aback, a small ripple across his suit indicated that he had moved backwards, like he was repelled by Harry’s words.

 “What?”

The blonde threw his hands up in the air and grinned madly.

“You know, money? What do you want?” He repeated, “A boat? A car? A house? Everyone wants a bit of my money, you being the city’s hero doesn’t make you any different. You still have a life underneath that suit. You still need money to live.”

The lens of the spandex suit narrowed. Spiderman was disgusted, Harry could tell. But at this point, Harry was desperate for anything, even if it was the slightest glimmer, the slightest silver of what could be there. He would resort to any method to reach it.

Although Harry already guessed that it was pointless, he continued to try.

“Dangerous no longer applies to me,  _Spiderman._  I’m dying and ‘trying’ can’t make me die more. Please.  _Please._ ”

Spiderman suddenly turned sorrowful, he turned his head away for just a moment.

Like he was choosing.

Harry’s hopes lifted just a little.

“I’m...sorry...I just really can’t. I can’t let it happen. Not to you too. I’m....I’m sorry, Harry.”

And Harry thought he couldn't fall lower.

* * *

 

_|Present|| First Earth|_

It hurt. His skin peeled and fractured from movement he had attempted just a second ago. Barely able to place together coherent thoughts, his mind ran through what he had just done only to feel utter confusion and distortion in his memories. The jumble of pain and desperation blocked him from fully remembering.

What was he reaching for? What did he want?

Harry’s eyes cracked open to see only a glare of light from the dangling light bulb from above. His instincts said to shut his eyes, but his instincts also indicated another being which he had yet to identify. As he tried to turn to see, his bones rippled, fissures feasted on his bones as his withered lips gasped. It took a long time, but the silhouette figure next to him was finally visible.

“Pe...t...er....”

Peter snapped his head towards the green dying one. He was shocked to see consciousness or at least comprehension of the situation across the other man’s face.

“Harry. Harry, oh god.”

The goblin couldn’t decide what to feel. Dread. Anger. Or...happiness.

Peter hadn’t forgotten who he was. He had thought that since the last years of his life that he was doomed to die the way he had never wanted to. Like his father, bitter and alone with no one to look to for.

As he slept in the cold narrow bed in the institute plotting his next escape with whom and when, the virus had got him again.

Perhaps the venom held it back for a few more decades.

He had thought himself finally free from the overwhelming danger it brought him. He was free and strong with nobody to stop him. He still got to see his old friend and always got so close to ending the exhilarating rivalry once and for all. He had made allies and to some extent...friends.

But it had returned at full force.

Laughing at his face, he couldn’t understand. Days of haze and agony filled his memories. Nothing was clear or understandable. Not until now. Not until the very end. Harry could feel it, there wasn’t much longer, his clock was slowly winding down to a stop with only his willpower to somewhat lengthen his time. To wait for that something to come back and tell him.

As much as his torn voice box could managed, he stuttered hoarsely,

 “Pet..er...wh..y...?”

“You’re dying, I didn’t know. I thought...the venom....”

“Yo...u...hat...e...me....”

“It’s too late to hate anyone right now, Harry.”

Harry seemed to attempt a chuckle only to result in torturous coughing, his throat was falling apart, his flesh slowly constricting his windpipe.

Black spots threatened to dominate his mind and his sight. He couldn’t reach for the oxygen that he needed so much, his last life line to tell Peter what he had always meant to say.

Tighter and tighter.

 _How typical of the Spiderman_ , thought Harry weakly,  _to forgive and forget at the very last moment._

“S..o....wh...y?”

Peter’s expression was torn with sadness. Gently, he lifted the goblin’s hands into his.

“I..” Peter looked up in to the murky grey eyes that were once cerulean blue, “...never got to apologize, Harry...”

Weaker and weaker. All he could feel was the warmth wrapped around his right hand.

“You never got a chance. I...didn’t understand...only....now...”

Peter didn’t finish the sentence.

Harry remained in a silent prose, if he spoke, he would break the fragile connection that perhaps would allow Harry the finality of peace just before he died. But...just...he had to ask.

The villain let his eyes focus on to Peter’s dark brown ones and opened his mouth to speak,

“Did...yo..u...ever...won...d...er....wha..-”

“- would had happen if I helped you?”

Harry didn’t reply but Peter had gotten the message, he needed to know, just the answer. Harry needed to know he wasn’t alone. And that what he had struggled all the days for the reply wasn’t futile, he just wanted it.

The only person left in the world who could possibly see him as who he should be and as who he needed to be. Perhaps. Just maybe –

“Maybe it would have been a better world.”

At that moment, there was no need for words. Between them and the final seconds of Harry, they both understood each other.

They weren’t alone.

* * *

 

_|Present|| Second Earth|_

Peter slowly carded his hand through the blonde pile of hair on his lap. The rest of the figure was spread across the three seated sofa. The golden rays of the sun just barely shined through the partially closed curtains, it highlighted Harry’s hair perfectly.

 _It was a little too soft for a guy’s...too pretty as well,_  mused Peter slowly as he occasionally pressed the tips of his fingers at the spots on Harry’s head where he knew would make him groan with pleasure.

The silence continued for a little longer as the two just shared the same room.

There was a little shift as the next move was taken by Harry, his hand coming up to lace in with Peter’s hand, long slender fingers met thicker and manlier ones. A soft smile grew around Peter’s face as he bent down and placed a gentle kiss on Harry's lips.

“You’re in a fluffy mood today.” teased Peter amiably as he untangled his fingers from Harry and returned to slowly combing his hair, “Is something wrong?”

The silence returned as Harry bent into Peter’s indulgent touch, he was contemplating his answer slowly, as if trying to find the right words. Finally after another minute of silence, he replied,

“You know...when I asked you for help...do you still think about that?”

“Do I think about when I have to help you to wash the dishes and whether you are way too spoiled?”

Harry snorted as he pulled himself up from Peter’s lap and sat up on the leather covered seat, blue eyes focused intensely on Peter.

“No, you dolt, when...you saved me because I needed....the blood.”

Peter stopped joking and looked at Harry, confused.

“You’re _still_ thinking about that?”

Harry flushed slightly as he huffed to the side, trying to hide his mixture of indignation and embarrassment.

“Yeah...well...you know...”

Peter waited for the continuation as Harry leaned against him, his head resting on Peter’s shoulder. Through Peter's eyes, Harry suddenly seemed smaller than ever and another second passed before he abruptly continued,

“Did you ever wonder what would have happened if you said ‘no’?”

The brunette paused for a moment and the day seemed to stopped as Harry waited desperately for his comment. Peter was thinking slowly and choosing his wording and answer. Finally, he replied softly,

“If that happened, Harry, I wouldn’t be here. And I would never want that, so the answer would probably be ‘no’”

A tender smile found itself on to Harry’s face, he snuggled in closer to Peter’s warmth. The day continue to tick, the rays slowly dimming.

“Yeah...I guess, me too.”

* * *

 

_To be continued_

 


	2. To Turn Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos, love you guys :D.  
> And hello, I'm back. Four (?) days. Here we go.
> 
> PS. I have not read canon. At all. Except for the movie(s). So please don't slender into my bed if I viciously murder the actual Spiderman universe. 
> 
> Muchos disclaimer: Spidey is not mine.
> 
> Because if he was. Amazing Spiderman 2 would just be a seriously angst relationship between his uber hot friend Dane De- *cough* -Harry Osborn

_If: Chapter 2 – To Turn Around_

_|24 years ago||Second Earth|_

“Dangerous no longer applies to me,  _Spiderman._  I’m dying and ‘trying’ can’t make me die more. Please.  _Please._ ”

Spiderman suddenly turned sorrowful, he turned his head away for just a moment.

Like he was choosing.

Harry’s hopes lifted just a little and the tension rose to a level that made it more than difficult for Harry to breath.

The only way to even penetrate the level of hope Harry was projecting was Spiderman’s answer. His entire life relied on the single reply in Spiderman’s power, his only light and glow in the darkness that was suffocating him. If he said “no”, Harry wouldn’t know what he would do. Without _him_ there would be very little to even consider anymore in his life.

There would no longer be any meaning to his existence if he were to inevitably die.

To fade away and be nothing.

But all those thoughts disappears as Spiderman’s response came.

“Give me a week.”

He did it.

A smile gave only a layer of what he felt. Finally...out of all the years of realizing his unavoidable death, he couldn’t have guessed that there would be a way out. A door for his loneliness to seep out and for a hand to reach in and take him out of the pit. No more days of darkness, wondering if it to be his last week of freedom before the final strike of the virus to force him in his death bed. He was finally _free_.

He leaned back and closed his eyes letting the release of the tension wash over him. Without the incoming adrenaline to support him, he was once again the drunken adult who couldn’t deal with his life as well as he wished to.

But now...

Sinking into the sofa, he murmured tiredly but with joy,

“Of course, a day, a week, a month...as long as you give the blood to me.”

His eyes opened just a crack his own words sank in, now slightly worried as he said slowly,

“You...are going to...right?”

The hesitation returned, but it was soon to disappear as the red and blue figure nodded and leaned towards Harry.

“I have one condition.....other than the time I need.”

“Anything.”

“You need to let Peter help you.”

Confusion ran its course around Harry’s face as he tried to deduce a reason for those words. Of course, Peter knew him the best and also knew about the project that his father and Peter’s created. He was likewise the same man who requested for Spiderman’s attention.

To be honest, Harry did also consider asking Peter to join him, but remembering that Peter had a life didn’t need to be dedicated to find a cure, he had indefinitely dropped the idea for good. Besides, Peter was probably busy with his girlfriend and he owned Peter quite a big favor because of the deal that Spiderman was striking.

How could he ask for even more of Peter’s time?

Besides, his pride took a little blow to Spiderman’s belief of his inability to do things by himself.

“I can research on my own...it’s not like I’m currently in such a bad condition.”

Spiderman paused as Harry countered in a slightly offended tone. When he finished, Spiderman replied, this time, getting directly to the point.

“It isn’t that I think you can’t do it. It’s just...I can’t leave you to doing this without have a spotter.” Spiderman looked at Harry, his eyes focusing straight at him,

“Someone to hold you back. To guide you.”

Harry fell silent as the statement permeated him. No matter how much he didn’t like it, it was more logical then he would ever admit. Spiderman had replied in a way that he just couldn’t counter, but Harry _knew_ he was right.

He did need someone like an exoskeleton to support him, Harry was a person who would be willing to give up anything to live again. To live a happy life. Growing up with so little love and comfort, he needed a chance to find a second life.

For this, he knew he would give up anything. The questions was though, how far would Harry go to succeed the venom’s favor and heal himself? There were many parts of science that had its own taboos, how many of them would Harry be willing to break for freedom?

Bacterial testing?

Animal experiments?

Perhaps even.... _human subjects_?

_Would he dare?_

Harry didn’t know. He didn’t _want_ to know.

 _Besides,_ thought Harry, _do I even have the right to be considering this?_ This deal was as easy to disappear as it had appeared, all it would take is a single syllable starting with “n” from the superhero. Then it would be the abyss again, staring to the darkness with no way out. Harry knew how it felt and certainly didn’t want to experience it again all over.

He only had only chance for this, just a single strike and he just had to take it.

“Fine. But...I think I need to speak to him first...”

The Spiderman suddenly seemed cheerful again as if Harry’s agreement had dropped all the tension in the room.

“No problem, already done.” came the answer.

“Mmhmm....sure...” Harry murmured in reply, every second that passed just made him dizzier now. He needed aspirin for sure, maybe a tubful would do. Sleep seemed like a really great option right now.

_Wait. Rewind. “Already done?” **What?**_

Harry didn’t get the memo about this.

All he could really understand is that there was a red and blue spandex suited man smirking ridiculously at him. He didn’t know why, but he was slowly getting exasperated by the important fact he seemed to have severely missed.

“I don’t remember seeing telepathy as one of your powers.” mumbled Harry under his breath as glared directly at the hero and the man gave a slight cross between a laugh and a splutter at Harry’s spoken comment and leaned back gracefully on the sofa.

That Spiderman definitely knew something that he didn’t.

And dammit, Harry hated secrets.

The hero then turned towards Harry’s perplexed face and grinned impishly,

“You know, Harry, you’d think talking to this person whose voice you seem to recognize....” he mock drawled whilst twirling part of his webs around his gloved fingers,

“...would hit you by now. I thought you had pretty much solved ninety percent of this when you had talked to me before, don’t prove me wrong now.”

Now Harry was really befuddled.... _before?_

_Oh god....no way...before?_

_“You know I really think that Spiderman is doing it for good.”_

_“It’s just the wrist, the muscles, just practice.”_

_“It’s complicated.”_

It was seriously just a god damned one-minute hypothesis.

“I’ll just let it _sloooowly_ sink in, Harry.” continued the masked man.

It can’t be....it just can’t be.....

_That irritating familiar voice that had once called his name everyday...._

_That irritating familiar voice that had once been high and cracked with puberty...._

_That irritating familiar voice that had once been his lifeline....._

The irritating familiar voice that belonged to his one and only friend.

“Peter, **_you fucking asshole._** ”

“Ha, well...took you long enough.”

With as much motor skill as he could drag out of his alcohol loaded system, he launched himself towards Peter and attacked. The Spiderman didn’t flinch as Harry flailed towards him like he was going to pulverize the life out of him. Harry continued stumbling towards Peter’s red spandex collar as he grabbed the mask and pulled upwards. The finely defined face of an acquainted post-teen smiled back at Harry’s glowering gaze and Peter tumbled out a single word happily.

“Hi.”

As if Harry couldn’t believe him, he continued holding on to the mask and slumped back down on to the sofa. He didn’t say anything as he managed his thoughts. His own friend. Was. Spiderman.

Absurd as it sounded to himself, it was true. The only real friend he ever had would turn out to be the only savior too. The world was really just filled with coincidences, ones that would bring hope and joy and some that would bring terror and death, but those matters that were contemplated during his darker times were no longer such a burden.

There was only one question that still rang out to be strange in his head.

“Why? Why would you tell me?”

Peter frowned as Harry asked, it didn’t seem like he was upset, merely thinking. It suddenly came to Harry that he recognized the expression that was printing across Peter’s face. That face he always saw on exams and when confessing to girls. It was concentration, and for a serious ADHD ridden young teen, it definitely didn’t come across his face often.

But Harry’s train of thoughts was interrupted when Peter finally replied,

“Because you probably would have just figured it out a few days after I started working with you. Might as well make it easier for me and you. No secrets between besties, right?”

Harry didn’t know what to say, it was happening too fast for him to comprehend. Just a moment ago he was completely lost to the world, but suddenly both his friend and the superhero of the city had proclaimed a cure in a span of three minutes.

Hearing that answer couldn’t bring anything more than complication to his feelings of joy. He buried his head into his hands sluggishly after setting down the red and blue mask to the side.

“I...I....I don’t know anymore. I think...I think I’m just glad it’s you.”

Peter smiled,

“Yeah. I’m glad that I can support you. Wouldn’t just leave an old pal running around blind with no one, would I?”

What Peter said was sweet. And very kind.

But no matter how serious and kind the situation was currently, there was only thought that Harry could come back with. Through his fingers he peeped at Peter’s get-up and said almost insultingly,

“But, spandex? Really? The oldest and most clichéd superhero material and not just that, Pete, we both know how durable spandex is....... _are_ you trying to strip for the public?”

Peter choked on the words and Harry sniggered knowing instantly that he had entered a sensitive topic. The room had become lighter all of a sudden and a light flush brushed with embarrassment flew across the Spiderman’s face as he hurriedly retorted with his excuse,

“I couldn’t find anything else! And...I never got the time to design and fix up the suit with better material, I’m always held up by all the random things that...you know....float by...”

The Spiderman’s slightly vague answers didn’t help the situation, if not, it added fuel to the flame. Harry was still snorting on his chair, he didn’t even bother to hide the fact he was only _that_ close to doubling with laugher.

“Harry! _Stop!_ God. Just...whatever, man! I’ll change it...”

“I-” Harry started.

And then in came the Spiderman theme song through the tinny phone speakers.

If Peter’s face wasn’t pink enough from his friend’s merciless teasing, now it was just full blown red.

“Harry,” he said hesitantly as he knew the cool image he had set out in front of Harry was quickly eroding to nothing, “There’s a reason for this.”

The only response that Peter got was laughter.

* * *

 

“Gwen! _Gwen!_ I did it! I did it!”

Dropping on leg over the window and accidentally pushed over a pile of paper. The 3rd year mock exams  from the first year of university flew around the room. Swearing under his breath he bounced around the room in a flash and cleaned up the mess before returning to the phone.

“I talked to him and he let me help him!”

“ _Great! How did you do it?”_

It hit him that he actually had no idea. He just sort of winged it.

He paused to think. What did he do? How?

It’s a little awkward, but the questions was asking quite a lot out of him. It wasn’t something he really thought out really well on the process of getting to Harry’s agreement.

Really.

He kind of went with the flow. His plan was composed of getting into the room and waking him up and.....well....honestly, just talk. But he had the consequences on his side. He did it. Harry was willing to work with him.

“ _Peter?”_ came Gwen’s (slightly entertained) uncertain voice “ _Hello, Peter? What part of the uncivilized world have you placed yourself to fight villains this time?”_

“Uh...yeah, nothing, really...”

“ _Nothing? Wow...”_ at this point, Gwen was almost drawling _“Am I going to have to assume this is vacuum?”_

Peter grinned as he listened to her musing.

“No, I’m not, I don’t think even I could survive a vacuum. Then again I haven’t actually tried, who knows, maybe I really am invincible.”

He was going out of topic. He plopped down on his bed and railed his thought train again.

“I just didn’t _do_ anything to get Harry to work with me, that’s all.”

“ _Well, disregarding any of your usual mess-ups, how well do you think you did from 1 to 10?”_

“A billion. I mean. You see how well I handle your mom, right? That’s how my awkward face rolls.”

He heard a laugh from the other end of the phone before continuing,

“I think it’s going to go well, actually.”

There was a pause before Gwen replied,

“ _I don’t know much about Harry, but from what I could guess from our short talks about the company, he seems like a pretty decent guy. Maybe it really will....”_

Peter smiled and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the yellow flowery pillow (Aunt May must have accidentally swapped around their pillow cases again) and let the wind from the window carry him to his thoughts, letting Gwen’s honeyed voice mellow him over.

It really seemed like it.

It just might go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped you like it, leave a kudo or comment if you like. See you next time with the hints starting to seeeep in ;)


	3. To Start A Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hellow, I is back with another chapter of HarryPeter goodness. As the liar I am, after something like two months of inactivity, because I was totally bothered to type after my English project. I am back and so is Voldemort (nah, jk).
> 
> Comment if you can spot the little innuendo (and oxymoron) I shoved in purely for the lols, and you will get.........an imaginary cookie.
> 
> Here’s an ingredient list for you to get an impression of it:  
> 100g of air, 2g of air, 35.3423851g of air and 1000g of imagination
> 
> Anyways, anyways, ANYWAYS. Enough rambling, please skip this AN if you want, it’s completely useless.

 

His phone dinged.

And Peter rolled over and contemplated.....well...life.

Mornings should usually start with a gentle slope towards the state “awake”. The sunlight shining through with a warming yellowy hue, birds chirping softly on the windowsill and last but not least a plate of steaming hot pancakes and strawberry cheesecake syrup from IHOP.

It would be the perfect morning as far as Peter was concerned, and from this ideal life, Peter really does try to get that every day.

But honestly, he knows how well each morning actually goes.

Peter groaned as his eyes cracked open and his body and mind began to sync in time with one another. During the murky times of between sleep and don’t-go-back-to-sleep-it-is-not-time-yet Peter generally found topics to muse over about and today was the fact that his hyper sensitive body system doesn't register alarms.

But, for, once in his life, Peter’s body actually listened to his brain. Just on a Saturday. Just on the one day he can actually sleep till 2pm. Nonetheless, he paused in those thoughts realizing he was derailing himself into Thinking Land and that generally resulted in drifting back to sleep which definitely not his motives for today. Slapping his hand on to his face to allow his tiredness seep away with the stings of pain that rippled across his face, he began to wake up.

Then he lazily scrambled for his Sony phone and checked the notification screen. Immediately, the messages started beeping through and the various emails and missed phone calls filled the screen. However, Peter only had eyes for one.

 

_14 th September 2016_

_To: Peter Parker (_ [ _8leggedhotshot@gmail.com_ ](mailto:8leggedhotshot@gmail.com) _)_

_From: Harry Osborne (_ [ _harry.obs@oscorp.com_ ](mailto:harry.obs@oscorp.com) _)_

_Re: Today_

_Please excuse typos as I am at the cue ready to brighten up my day with some double shot expresso at Starbucks being jolted by the people amongst me whilst I am typing vigorously._

_I completely forgot to ask you when we set up the date from Monday. Where do we meet? I certainly don’t mind you at Oscorp, however, you might want to find your own lab for us to work together._

_It’s more of your choice, I don’t really mind._

_Anyways, please reply soon, if it’s Oscorp you choose, I need to relay it to my driver so that he can pick you up._

_Also, yes, you will be driven here by my driver, the morning rush of the workforce in this city is just too terrifying and will render one’s speed to around nothing. Initial preparation for this project is absolutely vital and will take forever, meaning the more time we have, the better._

_Ultimately, what I mean after all my futile explanations as you probably won’t get any of it, just email or call me ASAP._

_~ Harry_

Peter wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel insulted at Harry’s remarks, but at the end, he tapped on his phone to bring up the call screen. Harry’s phone number was on speed-dial number 3, which was subsequently after Aunt May, then Gwen. Soon enough (having decided that a video call would speed up the decision process), Harry’s face popped up on the monitor.

His face was flushed and lips rimmed with white cream, he seemed like he was struggling rigorously against the morning throb of New York on the streets with a cup of the double shot expresso he had mentioned earlier on.

It seemed like at this point, he was failing desperately. The screen showed people pushing and shoving Harry all over the place and the speakers, in complement, giving the occasional shocked “ah”. Peter tossed a couple of “hello?”s at the screen before he gave up, realizing that the street were too noisy for Harry to hear anything. It took at least another minute till Harry’s face finally glanced down at the camera on his phone to realize a call had come through.

Peter grinned and opened his mouth to start joking about Harry’s bleak situation in the streets, but he was instantly shot down by Harry’s mutter:

“Try to laugh at me and I will fucking kill you. I don’t care if you can shoot webs out of your hands, because I can shoot bullets out of my gun.”

Peter stopped promptly and started feeling vaguely intimidated.

But however difficult Harry’s struggles against the public of New York and life threatening Harry’s words were, it couldn’t stop him from snickering away off the phone microphone’s perimeter. A couple minutes passed before Harry completed his battle against the current of the streets until he finally located his driver.

The sigh of relief came through phone speakers and caught Peter’s attention to Harry’s finally settled state. A car engine sounded as the screen showed Harry dangerously balancing the cup between his knees as he stabilized his items before placing the expresso into a cup holder. Only then did he look at the screen before awkwardly saying:

“Hi.”

Peter greeted him back with a similarly stumped expression.

The blonde paused for a second before sighing again and mussed his hair, averting his eyes away from the screen.

“Sorry. My bad, I was fussy from the crowds. I don’t normally travel along the pedestrian areas in the morning.”

Peter smiled sheepishly whilst setting down the phone on the stand,

“I’m kinda’ surprised that you realized so quickly that I was going to diss you.”

“I knew you for something like 12 years, it’s quite a lot of time to understand someone.”

The silence washed over them once again and it dragged on for quite some time before Peter murmured:

“....’knew’.....huh...”

Harry returned the smile albeit less sheepish and a little sadder.

“You know what I mean, Peter, there wasn’t a choice there.......anyway......the point of all this chaos: where have you decided to meet?”

“......probably, Oscorp, its got the most stuff we're going to need and it’s most likely more secure than my garage shed labs....so.......you alright with that?”

Harry smiled and shrugged at the camera,

“I have my private labs which will do fine. Actually....”

He stopped and looked at Peter, who looked back with confused and somewhat anticipating expression for the continuation.

“Nothing....it was an idea but it’s kind of dumb. Never mind.”

“.....so the labs? I’ll just....um....drop by to your office so you can bring me there.”

“But the driver?”

Harry looked back expectantly and Peter could only sigh. Limousine and cocktails all the way to Oscorp or being jostled and shoved into the tube. Really, although he could scale walls and tear metal apart, he was still human at heart.

It wasn’t much of a choice.

“.....Yeah okay.”

“Alright, he’ll.....” Harry paused and called out a quick question to the driver, a short reply came back and Harry returned in view to the screen “....come at 2 and you probably be at my office by 2:40. Bye then.”

Peter nodded in response and moved to pick up the phone.

“And Peter-”

Peter paused midway to pressing the ‘end call’ button.

“Yeah?”

“-what’s with your untimely pauses all over the place?”

“.....”

“Peter?”

“.....Harry?”

“Is it really that awkward speaking to me?”

“....your mouth.”

“What?”

“.....the triple shot expresso has cream floating on top.”

Neither of them moved. Then Harry flipped the phone around and placed it camera side down.

“.....shit.”

A little snort came through Harry’s tinny phone speakers.

* * *

“So fucking useless. This is abysmal. Horrific.  _Devastating._ ”

Peter pressed on the door’s handle gently, trying to peep into the room to see the situation. The shouting hadn’t stopped for at least 5 minutes he didn’t really want to enter to have the anger redirected to his interruption. As far as Peter was concerned, Harry was no longer the sweet polite boy that he used to be at the age of 8. Add some swearing and an infuriatingly posh dissing tone (the vocabulary wasn’t lacking either) and it may be a little closer.

It didn’t seem like a good choice to go in right now.

But he was late. It was 2:50 and as far as he was concerned, Harry still had his minor OCD about time management. This particular compulsiveness had originated from the fact that Harry’s father never made it in time for their trips together. Peter had remembered when came into the Osborn mansion and Harry was sitting in the lobby with a dinosaur backpack and a hat, waiting for his father and for the long awaited trip to Legoland. Apparently, Peter had been called in as replacement for his father.

He didn’t want to be the one to disappoint him again.

So he pushed open the door....

...and into a flying vase his face went.

He saw a glimpse of Harry’s mouth in an “O” before he hastily closed his eyes and it shattered against his face. The shards, being mostly large pieces, created a small pile on the ground. It looked vaguely expensive, but Peter currently had other things to worry about. He winced and raised a hand up to tentatively touch the small cut at his temple, it was trickling little rivulets of blood down his cheek. However, other than that cut and a massive bruise, he had no other souvenirs remaining from this encounter.

He was, somewhat, in a living condition.

Peter peeped open an eye and grinned sheepishly.

“H-hey....”

In what little Peter could see, with the slit of one eye, there was a stout man in front of him who seemed to have only barely dodged the massive ornament. He had horn rimmed glasses and looked terrified but slightly irritated. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to be on a completely different end of the spectrum, his face was tinted with anger and his fingers were wrangling some poor documents. His mouth, though, was still in a face of surprise, but as soon as his mind had processed the happenings, he set down the documents on the desk and hurried over to Peter, forgetting about the heated argument he was fighting about few second ago.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you had to come in at that second, didn’t you?”

Peter chuckled weakly, he could already feel the cut sealing up.

“Is that the tone you give to the person you just threw a vase at?”

But Harry didn’t respond to the comeback, instead he pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief and pressed it at the wound, holding it there.

Peter flushed at the sudden contact and pulled back.

“Uh, I don’t need it, dude, it’s healing.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he looked at Peter as if he was stupid before he sighed and leaned closer Peter, whispering quietly,

“I don’t know whether it was the vase or you are always like this, but not all civilians know that you are a superpowered meta....and I doubt you do want every person knowing.”

He made a subtle gesture pointing to the puzzled man in front of Peter.

Peter’s eyes followed the gesture.

Right. Civilian. Not someone who should know that he likes to wear spandex and save people.

Peter nodded and took over the handkerchief and pressed it on to the disappearing wound.

“Uh. Excuse me, sir, should I leave?”

Their eyes turned around to meet the jumpy business man, who looked like he was desperate for permission to get out. Harry just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, scurry back to your pathetic desk. Get the work done before Monday.”

The man nodded and bowed faintly before walking as fast as he could without looking like he was running away.

When the ebony door slammed shut, Harry walked back to the desk, slumping down heavily on the leather chair. He swiveled around a few times before noticing Peter was still standing next to the door, not entirely certain where to go next.

“You can sit you know. The couch isn’t going to bite.”

Peter gingerly walked around the broken pieces of the vase and sat down awkwardly on the cushiony sofa. He fiddled with the tassels on the oriental supports as Harry picked up the documents he was holding before. He looked over them again before crushing it one final time and dumping it in the small metal bin.

“Fucking dimwits. All of them. I don’t know what my dad was thinking when he hired these people. They don’t even know their own stuff.” He pushed off the floor again and let the chair go in circles, “That’s probably why he died. He’s an idiot too. A fucking selfish dick. Didn’t give a single shit about me until he needed somebody to try and save him when he couldn’t save himself.”

Then he suddenly stopped. And he laughed.

“Hey. Pete.”

Peter looked up from the tassel, listening unsurely.

Harry swiveled around to face Peter and spread his arms, smiling sickly.

“Doesn’t that sound like me too?”

“Harr-”

Then suddenly, hearing the brunette’s voice, the blonde looked uncomfortable and averted his eyes.

“You know what, don’t reply. I don’t want to know.”

They both stopped talking.

And then silence came by.

The only noises were the whirring of the machine and the soft ticks of the clock. But strangely, there was no tension, nor any hidden emotions.

Just silence.

It carried on for a few minutes before Harry spoke again, this time in a much more subdued tone.

“Sorry. About the vase. Are....you....uh...okay?”

Peter smiled, hearing the awkwardness of Harry’s voice and twiddled the blood imprinted handkerchief guiltily in his hands.

“Fine. It’s actually gone. Only evidence is the handkerchief.”

Harry smirked softly.

“You dolt.” He said, and if Peter wasn’t wrong, it was almost affectionate. Then he stood up and walked over to Peter. He offered a hand to Peter and pulled him up. They stood there together for a moment, before Harry grinned, excitement seeping through and he pulled Peter to the glass labs to the right.

“Let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hoped you liked it, I promised I would get to all the shipping, but you gotta’ set the atmosphere before you dive into all the angsty goodness. Going into to it straight away is like eating Godiva chocolate truffle at a public location whilst being bumped and pushed into (similar to Harry in this chapter). NO ATMOSPHERE. NO TASTE GOOD.
> 
> ;(
> 
> Okay. My insanity is showing. Sorry. Anyways, comment if you want, or just smile at this fanfiction and move on. If you enjoyed this fanfiction, that makes me happy enough as I am :)

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Do you want more?  
> Of course you didn't I suck at writing *sobs*
> 
> Joking, hahaha, I hoped you did though, please leave a kudo or a comment if you want.
> 
> Next chapter will be about how they got to the Second Earth ending. It'll start by deviating off Spiderman's answer to Harry at the Osborn Manor.
> 
> Bye~!


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